Snakes and tea.

When my Grandfather died, he wanted his ashes spread over the baseball diamond he played at every week of his youth. My Dad and his brothers took a cup of ashes, divided it between four baseball gloves and stood on the field awkwardly for a few minutes, not knowing what to do. One of them threw the ball to another. Ashes sprayed everywhere when the ball hit the glove, surrounding my uncle with an aureole of dust, coating his face. They all laughed and started passing the ball back and forth until the field was encased by a hazy cloud of ash. They did this joyfully, and left.

I thought this was a lovely story. My family proceeded to discuss where we'd like to spread our own ashes and how we'd like to die.

This is what my family talks about at breakfast.
I love them so much.

Recipe for a good morning.
Rolling around on the floor laughing my ass off with my little sister
Arguing with my Grandmother about socialism and unions
30 minutes on the elliptical, 30 minutes of weight and stability training
3 cigarettes
1 essay completed
2 cups of chai tea
3 hours of Rock Band
1 episode of Battlestar Galactica

Most things are very well in the world. And there will be much cake and debauchery tonight.

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